


Strop

by divagonzo



Series: Citrus Basket Series [11]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Outtake of Vows, Prompt: St. Mungo's, Winner of Prompt #8 of the Romione Fest on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 20:08:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5756557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/divagonzo/pseuds/divagonzo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been a bad few days for Ron and Hermione and Ron finally loses his temper. Hermione gives chase and offers a private place for them to have their very necessary row.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strop

* * *

Ron hit the doors first, with Hermione frantically chasing behind him. “Ron, just stop, now.” 

His long stride had him at the lift immediately, punching a button, any button. 

When the doors to the lift opened, he stepped in, followed by a harried Hermione right after him. 

“Don’t say a bloody word to me right now. I’m so pissed I’m going to explode.” 

Hermione hit a button, one for the top floor of the hospital. The lift moved and started the three floors ascent to the mostly empty hallway on the top floor. Ginny told her about the room. Charlie said it should be called the “Weasley Destruction Room” for how everyone in the family has trashed that particular oversized storage room at one time or another. 

She stepped out first and counted to the third door on her right. Sure enough, it was still torn up from Ginny’s tantrum two days ago. Hermione opened it and walked in, with Ron stalking behind her. She locked it, sealed it, and silenced every flat surface she could put a wand to. 

“Now, it’s just us and no one’s going to hear you. Go ahead. Explode.” She stood resolute and ready. 

Ron paced in the room and the air around him crackled in unrestrained magical energy. Every nerve of hers was on end, all because she wouldn’t keep Ginny from doing what she did with Mum this morning. 

It was a case of damned if she did, damned if she didn’t. 

“Why the bloody hell did you help her? You know better than using untested magic!” 

“Ron - “

“Don’t fucking try to tell me you did it for her own good. You didn’t bother to think -”

“That’s uncalled for!” 

“ - that you could have gotten hurt, or Mum, for bloody what? Mum was getting better. The Healer said she’d come around in a couple of weeks.” 

“And if you bothered to listen instead of just yelling at me,” Hermione screamed back, “you’d know that she’d have the same problem I did: fighting a potions addiction because I was having trouble coping with reality!” 

“That’s bollocks, Hermione. Why did you lie to me? Why?” 

“Oh that’s rich, coming from you, after you lied to me, repeatedly, on this last mission. So don’t pull that on me, blaming me for what happened.” 

“I couldn’t tell you, because of the mission. You know that!” 

“Rubbish, Ron. Don’t give me that. Spouses are afforded the same bloody information. You chose to lie to me, because it was easier than fighting me on it.” 

The filing cabinet next to the far wall blew apart, spraying the room in papers. Hermione had her wand up before he could pull his, shielding them from the papers acting like rabid barn swallows. 

“Ron, stop.” The papers flew around the room faster, battering the shield Hermione erected around them. They pounded around the room, crumpling yet still flying like miniature bludgers intent on breaking through. 

Hermione kept her wand pointed outward, keeping the shield up, but pulled Ron’s jumper hard to her and snogged him deeply. 

“This doesn’t change anything,” He growled at her lips before pulling her tight to his body and snogging her furiously. “You lied to me,” He snarled, “and you could have been hurt. It was stupid,” He grabbed her arse through her slacks, making her squeak. “What the hell were you thinking?” 

Hermione pushed back on his chest to give her more room. His scent permeated his robes and left her mind muddled. 

“She was going to do it with our help or not. If I hadn’t helped, she and Luna would have probably died. I tried _everything_ to get her to relent but she was so afraid for Mum.” 

Ron turned on her and forced Hermione back into the magically reinforced window behind them. She landed with a thud, without him touching her, and winced in pain. “Sorry love, but tell me.” 

Hermione stared at her husband while ignoring her stinging ribs from landing awkwardly on the reinforced window. “What would you have me do Ron? Stand aside while your sister performed unknown magic, getting them a bed in the Spell damage ward along with Neville’s parents? That’s would have happened if I’d not helped. Like it or not, it was either help control the situation, as messed up as it was, or stand aside and watch three women get hurt horribly.” 

He stepped back from her, looking at the mess in the room from his unrestrained magic earlier. He couldn’t meet Hermione’s eyes, not now. “Believe it or not but I tried to talk her out of it. For hours! Luna did too. But she’s like you that when she gets afraid and scared, or angry, she’ll act and act out. It was either help them and hope to Merlin I could keep her from hilling herself, Luna, and Mum, or stand aside and warn everyone and have her still do it, with terrible consequences.” 

“It’s still no excuse for it happening anyway.” 

“Ron, listen to me.” 

“Why should I? You lied to me!” Bright orange sparks flew from his hair while the discarded furniture in the room was quivering. He turned away, shaking visibly. 

“Then if you won’t listen, you’ll look.” Hermione pulled off the borrowed jumper along with the navy blue vest under it. “Look at me! Look at the price I paid for your Mum’s life. Look at what it did to me to keep your sister alive!” 

Hermione yanked the simple white brassiere off her chest and stood before her husband in mortification. “Damn it, Ron! Look at me!” 

He turned back to his wife and the room settled instantly. “Bloody hell, Hermione!” 

“I did this for you and this family so quit being mad at me for trying to heal them!” 

Ron walked over and collapsed onto his knees in front of her. Bright red streaks marred her body, from her fingertips to her waistline. “The bloody hell happened?” He leaned in to kiss the bright red streaks on her chest but also to cover her exposed breasts. “Does it hurt?” 

“Fleur said the marring will go away in about a fortnight. That was the price required, to bring your Mum back. You can stat mad at me, and Ginny, all you want but you better acknowledge that we risked our sanity to keep the family together.” 

“I never said at your expense!” Ron yelled before hiccupping, trying to hide falling apart. “Don’t you get it? You mean the world to me!” 

“What was I supposed to do? Mum being in here was tearing the family apart. Your sister was going mad with worry. Your brother was drinking himself back into an early grave – along with another one.” Hermione took a shuddering breath. “We brought her back, risking our own, and probably saved half the family when we saved her life. Look at your Dad! Another week and he’d probably have been with Fred! Did you want that?” 

Gentle lips kissed her on the stomach, causing gooseflesh to break out on her chilly skin. “You shouldn’t have to sacrifice your life to make the family whole. You’ve paid for our lives ten times over.” Strong arms wrapped around her and brought her down to his lap, dripping tears down her shoulders and her back. “I know what you did was for the family. But I can’t lose you.” 

“And you’ve paid for mine ten times more,” She whispered into his hair, smelling the shampoo she bought for him two weeks ago. “Our marriage is that we work _together_ ,” she purred into his scalp and felt his hands tighten on her arse, “and working together means helping one another. Right?” 

“Hermione?” Ron lifted his head from her breasts. “I shouldn’t have screamed at you. I was wrong.” 

She felt his endowment between her legs, poking her on the knickers. She smirked into his hair but thought, _why not?_

“And you want to shag me, here, as way of apology for your atrocious behavior?” 

Ron blushed magnificently, smiling shyly. “I want to give you an orgasm, to apologize for being a world class prat.” 

She worked her hands between her knees, to the buckle of his trousers. Deft fingers accustomed to the practice gently moved his cock out of his trousers and pants, impatiently bobbing in her hands. 

“Shall I get you off first, so - “

“No,” he yelped and bit his lip. “This isn’t about me, but me making it up to you.” 

“Wrong, love. We’re married, and we do things together.” She moved her knickers aside and moved her sodden slit along the head of his cock, working between the folds. “You love me, care for me, and protect me - that’s how we work together as a team.” She sank down on his cock, sitting still a moment to appreciate how he just fit her, like they were meant for one another, even physically. 

“Bloody fuck, you feel so good.” She shifted her knees and dropped back down on his hips. He hissed but bucked up into her quim, relishing her moans. “Bounce those tits for me, Hermione. Use my cock to get off. I want you cumming hard.” 

“Utterly… charming,” she panted out while thrusting on his hips before throwing her head back, moaning loud. “Ron,” she whined. 

“You get off on what I say,” he growled before leaning forward to take a bounding tit in his mouth. He sucked before it popped back out of his mouth. “Shite.” 

Hermione dropped her knees to the floor and was grinding on his cock, rocking but not bouncing. “You close?” 

She thrust her hips vigorously. “No,” she panted. “Taking longer than usual.” 

“Bollocks,” Ron pulled his knees together. His bollocks screamed at being squeezed but this wasn’t about him but his wife riding his broomstick like a pro. “Lean forward, love.” 

She did as he asked, brushing her tits across his chest. She continued to rock back and forth but it wasn’t enough. “Spread your knees wide, like you’re riding a broomstick.” 

“You know I hate flying.” 

“Not on my Cleansweep, you don’t!” He growled. “Now lean forward, damn it!” 

She did and her expression changed immediately. He thrust up and the angle dragged the head of his cock past the bundle of nerves on the underside. He still moved a hand under her hip, finding the nub under his finger and pressed on it. 

Her face froze before a preternatural groan erupted from her lips. “Ron,” her moan stretched the three letters out to six syllables. He thrust again, pressing hard on her clit while her face was paralyzed. He thrust again and felt her clamp down on him seconds before she came, drenching his cock. 

The smile on her face was a wonder to behold. 

“Come for me,” She whispered, drunk on Ron. 

He gripped the back of her neck and pulled her down for an awkward kiss, snogging her breathless while pounding into her like a man on his last shag. 

Her quim tightened down again, urging him on. 

Once, twice, thrice before his thighs locked, his bollocks sang an aria, and he came, hard, making an epic mess of both of them. “OhfuckHermioneshite!” He fell back to the ground, passing out. 

“Ron,” Hermione spoke up minutes later. 

“Yes love,” once he could see straight much less talk. 

“Mind letting go?” 

Ron focused at the blur of hair in front of him and released his hand. He’d held Hermione snug in his arms without realizing she was close to passing out. “Sorry, love.” 

She smiled at him, the raw one just for him. “Don’t be. You already apologized.” She sat up on his hips, tracing his lips. “And I love you too.”


End file.
